


Home

by was_i_in_it



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, McKinley is still flirting, Nabulungi and the villagers are good and pure and supportive, but it's okay cause the lads are there for each other, it's sad boi hours, much to Price's dismay, ultimately pretty cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24464908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/was_i_in_it/pseuds/was_i_in_it
Summary: The elders of Uganda District 9 have chosen to finish their mission against the Mission President's orders. Now they must learn how to face the shock and disappointment of their families and find their home together.
Relationships: Arnold Cunningham/Nabulungi Hatimbi, Elder "Connor" McKinley/Kevin Price
Comments: 7
Kudos: 31





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> If you read "To Be A Disney Prince (AKA Kevin Price's Gay Panic: The Short Story)", then understand that the events of this short story are meant to take place about two weeks later.

We live in constant fear of the growing pile of letters on the side table. 

The first one arrived about a week ago. We were all sitting around the Mission Hut couch, eating lunch and discussing the day’s activities, when there was a knock at the door. When McKinley answered it, he returned carrying a single white envelope and looking a little pale. 

He cleared his throat. “It’s for Elder Neely,” he said. When Neely looked up from his spot on the sofa, McKinley added softly, “It’s from your parents.”

The room went quiet. Neely’s face turned a palish green. “Oh,” he said, frozen in place. 

We hardly discussed it, but we knew it was coming. All of our families knew by now that we had “failed as missionaries”- courtesy of the Mission President- and that we had further disobeyed the Church through our refusal to leave Uganda. Eventually, they would start trying to reach us. Ask us what was happening. Ask us why we would turn against the Church.

Ask us why we would disappoint them.

My stomach felt like it was caving in on itself, and I rubbed my palms against my pants. _Dad had so much faith in me all my family members looked up to me I was expected to do everything right what are they going to think of me now-_

I shook my head a little, trying to stop the sudden rush of anxiety. I was _not_ going to leave Uganda now. I _know_ I did the right thing. It just didn’t make it any less terrifying.

“I…” Neely tried to start, but let himself trail off. Very slowly, he set his plate down on the floor in front of him and stood up. 

_He’s gonna have to read that letter. He’s gonna have to read it alone and if it’s bad then he’s gonna be upset and we’re all gonna have to dread our own letters-_

“Y-you don’t have to read it now,” I sputtered out over my rising panic. 

Everyone’s heads turned towards me, surprised.

“We’re all going to be getting letters soon,” I explained, heart thumping. “Let’s not suffer them repeatedly.”

McKinley’s mouth quirked into a little grin. “That’s a good idea, Price!” he replied. “We can all read them together.”

“Yeah!” Arnold added- ever the faithful companion. “We can see each other through our family problems!”

“Of course,” McKinley continued kindly, “if anyone would like to read them as soon as they arrive, they are absolutely allowed.” He looked at Neely again and raised the envelope. “Would you like to-”

He shook his head. “I-I don’t think I want to read it now.” His face was still pale, but some color had flushed back into it in his relief.

“Right!” With a little flair that made me smile, Connor flipped the letter over to his other hand and set it down on the side table. “Then this can stay right here- or wherever you want to put it- until we’re all ready to open it.”

. . .

More letters joined Elder Neely’s on the side table. Mine arrived four days later.

It was just after dinner, while Cunningham and I were taking care of the dishes. I was turned towards the sink when I heard a timid voice behind me. “Elder Price?”

Something about his tone made my heart jolt. I turned around to see Elder Church, his eyebrows knit together in worry. In his hand was a white envelope.

My head felt like it had been suddenly ducked under cold water. “Is… is it mine?” I managed to ask.

He nodded slowly. Carefully, I took the letter from him and turned it over. It was addressed to me from “The Price Family.” I recognized my dad’s stiff, blocky handwriting, and the ground swayed under my feet.

“Okay.” My mouth was suddenly spewing out random words. “Okay, okay, okay. This is just fine. This is fine.” Without much thought, I walked past Elder Church and firmly planted the letter on the top of the side table stack. I turned on my heel and went right back to the sink, my head ducked down.

“You alright, buddy?” Arnold asked, sounding concerned.

“Yeah,” I replied quickly, not looking at him. “Yup. Yup yup. I’m just fine.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” I tried to keep my breathing steady even though my heart was knocking the air out of my lungs. “I’m fine. I’m just… just a little worried about my letter like everyone else. That’s all. It’s fine.”

As soon as the dishes were clean, I went straight to our room and sat down on my bed. I wrapped my arms across my chest and clutched at my sides, as if in attempt to get a grip on myself.

_I did the right thing I know I did the right thing I know I’m right but they’re all gonna be so disappointed in me my family’s gonna be disappointed-_

A soft knock at the door interrupted my panicked thoughts. “Kevin?” an equally soft voice asked.

There were only two people here who regularly called me by my first name. And Arnold’s voice was not gentle enough to be the one that came from the other side of that door.

“Kevin, can I come in?” Connor asked again.

A different kind of panic surged inside of me- _oh man is this gonna be like our last one-on-one conversation I’m not sure if I can take that again-_ but, of course, I still said, “Sure.”

With a quiet squeak, the door opened, and Connor McKinley stepped inside. His expression was almost painfully kind as he approached me. I became suddenly aware of how much I’d hunched in on myself, and I quickly forced myself to straighten my spine and set my palms down on my thighs.

He sat down slowly next to me. “I heard that you just got your letter from your family,” he murmured.

“I did,” I replied bluntly, hoping that I wouldn’t betray any more of my anxiety.

“Elder Cunningham told me that you seemed upset.”

“He did?” I was surprised by Arnold’s perceptiveness. “I told him that I was fine.”

“Kevin, no offense, but I don’t think shutting yourself in your room like this makes it seem like you’re fine.”

“I mean…” I looked down. “I’m worried, just like everyone else, but I’ll be okay.”

There was a pause. “You realize you can talk to me about anything, don’t you?”

 _That_ finally broke me. “It’s just…” I sighed, folding my hands in my lap and twiddling my fingers together. “I was _perfect_. I was the _perfect_ one who was supposed to do everything _right_. And everyone was so proud of me, and they expected so much of me, and-” I swallowed, blinking hard and trying to keep my voice from quavering- “and I didn’t do anything any of them expected me to do. And they’re going to be disappointed in me. They’re going to feel like I let them down.” My eyes stung, and I prayed that it was too dim to see how close I was to crying.

“Kevin…” Suddenly, through my tear-filled vision, I saw a hand move in and place itself overtop of my folded ones. I turned to face McKinley, who was making me uncomfortable again with how softly he was gazing at me. “If that’s how they think, then they just don’t understand yet,” he said. “You’ve done such incredible things. For everyone here.”

“I-I know.” I wasn’t sure what to do with the feeling of Connor’s hand over my clasped ones. It was warm. Soft. Shockingly well-manicured. “I did the right thing. Arnold made the Ugandans so happy- we _had_ to stay here to support everyone. It’s just…” I had to look away again to hide the fact that I was fighting tears. “It’s just hard. It wasn’t what I was expecting, and it’s hard.”

“I know.” His thumb started running over my knuckles. My brain short-circuited. “I know,” he continued, either unaware of what he was doing to me or fully aware and trying to distract me from my anxiety, “and it’s going to be hard for everyone here over the next few days. But, no matter what any of these letters say, we are all here to support each other, and we will always be here to support each other. If need be, we will be your home- for as long as you may need.”

I was trying so hard not to cry. Though I might’ve been trembling, I unwound my hands from each other and used my left hand to clasp McKinley’s right. He took it and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

“Of course. We all care about you _very_ much, and we all understand what you’re going through and want to help you through it.” There was another pause, then the bed creaked as Connor leaned closer to me. “And for the record,” he added softly, his breath curling against my ear, “I still think you’re perfect.”

My face got very hot very quickly. All I could manage was a nervous laugh. He chuckled, no doubt delighted by my awkward reaction, but still did not let go of my hand, running his thumb back and forth over the back of my own thumb this time.

My brain momentarily stopped functioning again, my breath hitching stupidly in my throat. _What the heck? Why is this having such a strong effect on me? What is he doing?_

“How… how am I gonna tell my family?” I choked out. “About…” I felt suddenly humiliated, my forehead heating up. “About you? About… _me_?”

McKinley’s thumb paused, but he didn’t let go. “I was wondering that, myself,” he replied quietly. “About my own family. Telling them that I’ve quit trying to ‘turn it off.’” He sighed, and his hand squeezed a little tighter around mine. I risked turning my head towards him and saw that he was still looking at me with his soft blue eyes. A small, kind smile came to his face. “We’re just going to have to figure that out together,” he said, “and it doesn’t have to be soon. It can just be whenever we’re both ready, okay?”

It was all too sweet for me to suppress my own smile. “Okay,” I whispered.

We sat like that for a little while afterwards- hand-in-hand, not saying a word. Once or twice, I _actually_ considered leaning my head on his shoulder, but it seemed too serious and brought on a fresh wave of anxiety whenever I tried to get the nerve. I wasn’t ready for that yet, but it was just nice to have Connor there with me for the time being. Whatever happened next, I would not be alone.

. . .

“Elders, I think it’s time.”

I cringe when I hear McKinley say the words. Of course, we all knew it was coming- it had been a full week since Neely received his, and everyone had one by now. I suppose it’s good that we all actually got one- no one’s parents are shunning them completely. 

We’re sitting around the Mission Hut couch again for lunch. Arnold’s sitting next to me with Nabulungi beside him, and, out of the corner of my eye, I see him start fidgeting, his fingers picking at a splintery piece of the wood floor.

Connor plucks the cursed letters off of the side table and looks over all of us. “We have to face these eventually,” he continued sadly. “We can’t pretend they aren’t here forever. We shouldn’t have to dread them any longer.”

Everyone mutters in mournful agreement. Next to me, I hear Arnold whisper, “Are you okay with staying here, Nutella?”

“I will be right here if you need me, Elder Cunningham,” Naba responds, her voice sweet. I looked towards her and saw that she had taken his hand and was looking around at the rest of us, a kind smile on her face. “You have helped us all so much,” she continues. “I swear I will do the best I can to help you all now. It is the least that I can do.”

“Thank you, Naba,” Elder McKinley says, sounding genuinely grateful. He looks down at the envelopes in his hands, and, with a sudden stab to my heart, I see pain flicker across his face. His shoulders heave in a deep, agonized breath before he finally lifts his head again. 

“Elders,” Connor continues, “we may not know what is inside these letters. It may be scary. And I want you all to know that it is okay to feel scared. We are _not_ ‘turning it off’ anymore- we won’t be able to grow or be truly happy if we don’t face the bad feelings every once in a while. And I’m deeply sorry for advocating otherwise before. I…” He cuts off briefly, swallowing and pressing a hand to his chest before continuing. “I hurt all of you. And I cannot be any more sorry.

“But I will not do so any longer. I will not tell you to shut out your feelings. I love each and every one of you, and I will support all of you whenever you are hurting. And-” His voice breaks. It crushes something in my chest, seeing him, seeing _Connor McKinley_ , on the verge of tears as he blinks his eyes and clears his throat. “And no matter what is in these letters,” he forces out, making eye contact with each and every one of us as if to emphasize what he is about to say, “I want you to know that I am beyond proud of everyone in this room. No matter what, no matter how stressful it might seem… I am proud of you for being so strong and doing so, _so_ well here.”

My throat constricts, and my eyes cloud over completely with tears. I dip my head down towards the ground to hide it, but, even so, I can hear other people sniffling and know that there is really no need. _Still. I don’t really want anyone to see me like this. I am a Price. We are winners._

There’s a deep, shuddering breath at the front of the room, and I look up again to see McKinley wiping at his eyes with his free hand. “You can open your envelope whenever you feel ready,” he says, sounding as though he’s forced his voice to be steady. “We’ll be here for you every second of it.” Without further delay, he begins his walk around the circle of elders, shuffling through the envelopes in his hand and giving each person their own. When he reaches me, we lock eyes. His are already red and watery, sending a jolt of pain through my chest, but he still attempts a reassuring smile as he hands me my letter and continues on. 

Upon reaching Nabulungi, he reaches downward and takes her hand briefly, and I think I hear him whisper “Thank you” before he completes the circle and stands back at the side table, looking down at the one envelope left in his hands.

I don’t want to open mine, but because I’m cool, sexy, and incredibly bold I take a deep breath and tear through the top of it. My flimsy, trembling fingers pull out the folded piece of paper inside. I assume that everyone around me is doing the same, but I don’t notice them now- it’s like all of my focus has turned on its head to orbit around this letter. Feeling slightly dizzy, I force my hands to unfold it.

_Dear Kevin Price,_

_Before I say anything, I will let you know that everything is going just fine back at home. Nothing much has changed since you left. Your siblings and your mother all miss you very much._

_However, what has changed is our confidence in you, son. I don’t know what is happening over there in Africa, but it has clearly affected you in a way that you should not have allowed._

_Now, perhaps whatever triggered the Mission President’s response was not your fault. But you should have come home when he ordered you to. You should have followed his rules, and the fact that you didn’t makes me think that maybe he was right about all of you. Maybe you are all as far from Latter-Day Saints as it gets._

_We are all feeling very shocked and confused by all of this, and it’s making your entire family feel very upset. Your siblings all looked up to you, Kevin, and now they don’t know what to do or how to feel. What happened to your faith? What happened to your trust in the Church? Your trust in God?_

_We’re terrified that the Devil may have finally gotten to you somehow, and that, if you don’t repent soon, you will become another sinner and end up in Hell. Please, remember your faith! Put your faith and trust in what Jesus did for you on that cross! Heavenly Father wants to save you, but He will not force you to repent. He knows what’s best, so please, please listen to Him._

_Don’t let us down. Don’t let God down._

_Sincerely,_

_Your loving father._

I’m just relieved that the letter’s over. A horrible pressure built up in my head as I read, and now I can feel my throat tightening and my breaths getting shallower. I put the thing down on the floor in front of me and gulp in air, forcing my lungs to take in enough oxygen. 

Inhale. Exhale.

_I disappointed them. Dad’s disappointed in me. They all think I’m horrible._

Inhale… exhale.

_What am I going to do next?_

It feels like my head weighs a hundred pounds, but I make myself look up at everyone around me. I see my own feelings reflected in almost everyone else’s faces as they look over their letters. Next to me, Arnold sets the letter down and begins absentmindedly toying with his tie, appearing to hunch in on himself a bit more as he does so. Nabulungi puts her hand on his knee. “Elder Cunningham?” she asks softly. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine, Neosporin,” he replies, glancing at her for a second before looked back down at his tie. “It’s… it’s nothing new. I’m used to it.” 

His tone of voice reminds me of when I snapped about being “stuck” with him. Heart panging, I put my hand on his shoulder. “Your family should be _very_ proud of you,” I tell him gently, afraid that my voice will crack. “I’m still here for you, buddy.” 

“I am here for you too,” Nabulungi says, grasping his hand. “You are a great man, Elder Cunningham. My village is so grateful for everything that you have done, and we would do anything for you.”

Arnold smiles and wipes at his eyes with his free hand. Naba and I both move in and hug him from either side, and he whispers, “Thanks guys.” 

“Well, elders…” I let go of Arnold and look up at Elder McKinley. To my surprise, his expression is suddenly unreadable, his entire face set as if in stone. “Does anyone have anything good to share?” he asks the room. _Oh, his letter was NOT good…_

There’s a pause, then Elder Church raises his hand. “Mine was just from my mother,” he replies quietly, smiling a little. “She says that she is confident that I am doing whatever I think is right for everyone.”

“Mine was alright too,” Poptarts adds. “My parents don’t know or understand what is happening, but they trust that I am doing what’s best. They just want me to be careful.”

There’s a brief pause. “If no one else has anything to share,” McKinley says, his face still _so weirdly unreadable_ , “then let’s finish up lunch and keep moving along with our day! Remember, we are all here for each other, and we are all equally willing to help you and listen to you if you would like to talk.” He smiles, but it does not quite reach his eyes. “I am so proud of the strength you all showed today. We are all in this together, and we will all work this out together!”

. . .

“Elder Price, I think you should go talk to Elder McKinley.”

I blink, turning on my heel to face Elder Zelder. “What?” I ask, bewildered and already feeling panicked _for no reason whatsoever_ \- “Why?”

It has been a couple hours since we opened our letters, and we all seem to be feeling a bit morose. Nabulungi had to leave a while ago and apologized profusely for it, and, although we obviously forgave her, I think everyone misses her cheerful, optimistic presence. I wanted to throw away my letter and never look at it again, but, instead, I folded it into the smallest square I could possibly make and put it under my mattress where I can’t see or think about it because _what if I need to look at it again later for some reason and make sure I actually got everything Dad said am I gonna need to write a letter back with information from it-_

I had just come out of the bathroom when Elder Zelder ambushed me.

He shrugs. “He seems like he’s pretending to be okay, but… I dunno. I think he’s upset and doesn’t want to make the rest of us upset by showing it.” Zelder gestures vaguely towards a door. “He’s in our room now, with the door closed.”

My heart jolts with alarm, but, after taking one step towards the room, I freeze. “Wait. Why don’t you talk to him? You’re his companion.”

“I think that _you_ should go talk to him,” he says firmly, locking eyes with me, “because he really, _really_ likes you.” A pause. “And I think you really, _really_ like him.”

We stand there staring blankly at each other for a second. I start anxiously nodding at him, and he mirrors it. This happens for several more, very uncomfortable seconds. “Oh… okay,” I reply lamely, not entirely sure what’s happening but feeling like I shouldn’t try to refuse.

“Okay,” Elder Zelder echoes. He looks pointedly towards their room. “Go talk to him about his feelings. Make him feel better.”

This sounds terrifying, and I feel my heart start to race. But I don’t hesitate a second longer. Straightening my spine, I turn away from Zelder and stride purposefully towards my man’s- _MY man’s?_ \- my man’s room. 

With confidence I don’t quite feel, I knock on the door. “McKinley?” I ask.

Silence for a moment. Then _his_ voice; “Come on in, Price.”

Very slowly, I open the door. He’s sitting on his bed, and, when he looks at me, I’m shocked by the sheer exhaustion in his blue eyes. “Connor, are you okay?” I ask, genuinely worried. I sit down next to him quickly.

“ _I_ am just fine,” he replies, waving his hand vaguely as if to brush off my concern. “I’m dealing with my letter, but I am totally fine. You don’t need to be worrying about me.”

“McKin…” I sigh. “ _Connor_. You can’t tell everyone that it’s okay to express their feelings and lean on each other, then keep your own suppressed.”

He sits up straighter. “You all have enough to deal with without my own issues bothering you,” he says sternly. “I told you- I will be just fine. And, as District Leader, I am supposed to provide a shoulder to lean on. Not another burden.”

He’s stubborn. _What do I say now?_ “Can… can I ask what was in your letter?”

He shakes his head and sighs. “It’s just… same old, same old. Apparently they were worried that something like this might happen- what with someone, y’know, _like me_ functioning as the District Leader- but they were hoping that I had enough _control_ over everything that it would be fine. So it sounds like they’re disappointed, but not all that surprised.” He shrugs. “I guess their biggest worry now is what in Heavenly Father’s Green Earth I _did_ to everyone here. They seem to think I might’ve brought Satan to all of you. Maybe they think I’ve turned everyone gay.” He looks me over and shrugs again. “Not entirely wrong.”

I try to ignore that last, halfhearted comment. Because I’m very articulate and smooth, I say, “Well, that’s stupid! You’re a great District Leader!”

“Am I?” McKinley makes eye contact with me. “I advocated suppressing everyone’s feelings for three months.”

“Well…” I pause. “You did it within a _really_ great tap number.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Oh, it was an _incredible_ tap number. You liked it?”

“Are you kidding me? I _loved_ it.”

“I’m so glad!” He seems genuinely pleased, despite his depressed mood.

“I mean, I wasn’t sure what happened with the vests, and, y’know, that still makes me moderately afraid of you, but it was amazing. And- hey! You were just reciting what everyone told you was the right thing to do! You were just doing what you thought was right, and, as soon as you realized it was wrong, you completely turned it around!”

“Well…” He seems bashful for a second, and, suddenly, I’m pleased to be the one making _him_ blush for once. “It wouldn’t have turned around without you,” he finally settles on. “You would’ve been a much better District Leader than me.”

“No- Connor, I tried to run away from all of my responsibilities almost immediately upon arrival. If I was District Leader, I would have completely lost my mind. I would have given up _months_ ago. But you? You held everyone together the best that you could. You saw all of the terrible things happening here, and _you kept going_. Besides,” I add, “the elders here love you so much. They would not have wanted anyone else to give a speech before handing out their letters- certainly not me. And- Connor?” I ask, alarmed.

Tears had suddenly sprung into his eyes. “You think that the elders here love me?” he asks, voice quavering.

_This is what’s brought him to tears?_ “Of- of course!” I reply, honestly confused at his surprise. “I know that they do! We _all_ love you so much! Why wouldn’t we?”

“They- is anyone uncomfortable around me? Because I’m- I’m not turning it off?”

My heart feels like its shattered into a million pieces. “Connor,” I tell him sincerely, “the only one uncomfortable around you is me. And it is _not_ the same kind of uncomfortable that you’re worrying about.” _I can’t freaking believe I said that_ but I keep going. “We all _love_ you, Connor.”

At that, he finally breaks. A sob racks his body, and he starts wiping at his eyes. Reflexively, I reach out my hand and place it on his back. “S-sorry,” he hiccups out. “I’ve just… been so w-worried. I kn-knew it was b-better for _me_ to quit turning it off, b-but I just…” He wheezes. “ _I just love you all so much_. And I w-wanted you all to love me too, b-but it’s weird, and I’ve been told since f-fifth grade that I’m not normal, and I…” Another shuddering breath. “I don’t know! I w-was trying not to worry, but I r-read that letter and remembered that I w-wasn’t normal, and that e-everyone probably knew it, a-and…”

I am _massively_ overwhelmed by the amount of emotion and information that I was just given, but all I know is that I want him to stop hurting. “Oh, Connor...” I say, shocking myself at the tenderness in my voice. Without even thinking, I spread my arms wide towards him, and he crashes into my embrace, wrapping his arms around me and sobbing. My heart softens, and I rub his back. “No one here thinks you’re weird or abnormal,” I continue, feeling my throat tighten and praying _for like the fifth time today_ that I wouldn’t just start crying too. “No one. I can promise you that.” 

He clutches me tighter. “Thank you,” he whispers hoarsely. “Thank you.”

A few minutes pass. The room is silent save for his shuddering breaths and the muffled sound of voices outside. He is very soft and warm, and, although he relaxes a bit as time goes on, neither of us let go. I end up breaking the quietness. “I just- I have to ask,” I add, blushing but genuinely curious. “How did you have all of this on your mind and then, like… still flirt with me? How did that work out?”

He chuckles through tears. “‘Cause I knew… I knew as soon as I saw you that you w-weren’t straight, Kevin. If it made you uncomfortable, you were g-gonna get used to it.”

“Jerk,” I grumble, wishing that I wasn’t thoroughly enjoying our embrace or- _much_ to my dismay- suddenly recalling my Hell Dream _for some dang reason_. “Why didn’t anyone try to tell me?”

“They p-probably couldn’t see through your good, Mormonly nature. B-but I… I am _very_ perceptive.” He shifts slightly, and- too late- I realize that he did so in order to whisper directly into my ear. “And I was _not_ going to let _you_ slip by me.”

I feel my entire face blaze, and I _have_ to end the hug in my sudden discomfort. “What the- how do you cry and flirt at the same time?” I sputter, facing him with my hands still placed on his shoulders.

He grins even though his eyes are still full of tears. “I’m v-very talented. I c-can do a _l_ _ot_ of things.”

I don’t know if I’m more thoroughly horrified by the implications of this, or by the fact that I even thought of them. “You frighten me,” I tell him, “and knowing you is a burden. But I promise you that I am the only one here that applies to, and it’s my fault for…” I don’t know what I was planning to say there. My face reddens, and I release him. “You know.”

His cheeky smile widens. “Oh, I sure do.” 

I guess this is what I asked for in trying to make him feel better. It’s extremely unfortunate that I _know_ my face must be bright red. I shove at his shoulder with one hand. “Shut _up_. Stop that.”

I don’t know where all of this confidence came from so soon after all of that sobbing, but he is relentless and it is absolutely _killing_ me. “That _delightful_ b-blush on your face says otherwise,” Connor continues, sounding plenty delighted despite his mid-sentence hiccup. “I wonder-”

He is interrupted by a knock at the door- _thank gosh_. “Elder McKinley!” comes Elder Michaels’s overjoyed voice. “Come see who’s here!”

In an _instant_ , McKinley snaps back into Responsible District Leader mode, wiping off the remaining tears at his eyes, smoothing out his shirt, and rising to his feet to answer the door. When it swings open, Michaels makes direct eye contact with me, still sitting on the bed and completely paralyzed from all the flirting I was subjected to. “Oh- sorry to interrupt,” he adds, looking away from me and back to Connor, “but the villagers- they’re all here!”

“What?” McKinley asks, sounding surprised. He and Elder Michaels start walking away, and, still dazed, I stand uneasily and start after them.

The main doorway is occupied by all of the villagers trying to get inside. Nabulungi stands at the front, a full stack of papers in her hands, while Mafala stands beside her, smiling proudly.

“What are you all doing here, NATO?” Arnold asks, rushing over to her side.

“Nabulungi came back and told us that you were all upset,” Kimbay replies from behind her. “We all wanted to help!”

“Oh my goodness-” McKinley quickly ushers them inside. “Please, _please_ come in.”

“You gave us hope during the worst time of our lives,” Mutumbo says as he steps inside. “So we wanted to give you all some love.”

“We wrote you all letters!” Sadaka adds. “To make up for all the ones that you received. If the people at your homes are all rejecting you, then we will be your home!”

“It is the least that we can do!” Gotswana says enthusiastically. Upon seeing me, he smiles widely and points. “I wrote one specifically for you, Elder Price!”

I am sure it has something to do with the incident that occurred between myself and the General, as Gotswana was particularly impressed by it. I’m not entirely excited to read it, but I’m still flattered by the kindness of the gesture.

“All of the letters are here, Elder Cunningham,” says Nabulungi, holding the stack out towards him. She smiles kindly. “I did not want to see you all so upset, and I knew that none of us would either. So we wrote some for each of you!”

“That’s… this is _amazing_ , Nancy Reagan!” Arnold suddenly wraps his arms around her in a hug, and she accepts his joyful embrace.

“This is… this is incredible,” McKinley adds, his eyes brimming with emotion again. “I… _thank you_. You all have no idea how much this means to me- to _all_ of us. _Thank you_.”

“Thank _you_ ,” says Kimbay. “You all really saved us, so we will do anything to help.”

“Here- I will start passing these around,” Nabulungi says. Arnold offers to help, and she hands him part of the stack.

As they work on passing out the letters, Mafala approaches McKinley. He appears to be absolutely beaming with pride. “You know,” he tells our District Leader, “some people of our village cannot read or write. So Nabulungi just listened to all of them and wrote all of them down with her texting device.”

“That’s really amazing, Mafala!” McKinley replies, and my heart warms at the genuine love and joy in his voice. “Honestly. It is so incredibly kind of you all to come here and do this for us- I can’t thank you enough.”

Mafala smiles widely, and I absolutely _love_ the proud father who first showed Arnold and me kindness in Uganda. “Not only that,” he adds, speaking louder for more people to hear, “but I am willing to offer hugs from a parent, because I know that a lot of your parents are so upset. It will only cost you one hundred U.S. dollars.”

“ _Baba!_ ” Naba exclaims from the other side of the room.

Mafala laughs warmly. “Fine- I will make an exception for all of you. They will be free. Who would like one?” Gotswana rushes forward and wraps his arms around him, and Mafala quickly shoves him off. “Not _you_ , you idiot!” he says, laughing more. “I _will_ charge you!”

I look at Connor. He hesitates, then looks back and makes eye contact with me. I raise my eyebrows and look towards Mafala pointedly.

Very, very cautiously, Connor McKinley steps towards him. “Mafala?” he asks quietly. “Could… could I have a hug from a parent?”

Without another word, Mafala turns and embraces McKinley. Connor hugs him back tightly, and I see his shoulders heave in a massive sigh. I smile almost uncontrollably, and, in the sudden emotion that rises within me, tears sting again at my eyes. This time, I don’t try to hide them.

As Arnold and Nabulungi pass out the new letters of kindness to everyone, and as Connor receives the first loving hug he has possibly ever received from a parent since he was young, it suddenly occurs to me that the place that I had first despised has turned out to be one of the most supportive, loving environments I had ever seen. No matter what happens in the future, we all have all of these people around us, eager to provide us with whatever we need purely out of love and gratefulness for one another. For the first time in a long time… I feel like I am home.


End file.
